


Anything Is Fine

by casbean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Fluff, M/M, bit of Coliver, kid!Coliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 10:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3352946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbean/pseuds/casbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, top or bottom?” He asks, because the beds are the first thing he can think about.</p><p>There’s a small silence, and Dean turns around to find Castiel squinting at him.</p><p>“I - well, I’m pretty… versatile, I guess, but…?” Castiel’s eyes wander around the room. “Oh, you meant - the beds. Bottom, if you don’t mind.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything Is Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post  
> http://deancasheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/110604323916/summer-camp-au-where-dean-doesnt-meet-his

“Hi,” Dean greets when his co-counselor finally walks in.  
  
“Hello. Dean, right?”   
  
The boy reaches out and ceremoniously shakes his hand.   
  
“I’m Castiel.”   
  
Dean smiles as best as he can, his brain running blank because _damn_ that guy is beautiful. Very, very, very beautiful. Dean’s stomach churns and he looks around to escape the piercing blue eyes.   
  
“So, top or bottom?” He asks, because the beds are the first thing he can think about.   
  
There’s a small silence, and Dean turns around to find Castiel squinting at him.   
  
“I - well, I’m pretty… versatile, I guess, but…?” Castiel’s eyes wander around the room. “Oh, you meant - the beds. Bottom, if you don’t mind.”   
  
Castiel’s cheeks are bright pink, and he avoids Dean’s eyes as he picks up his bag and makes his way around him.   
  
“No problem, I’m… fine with anything.”   
  
Castiel turns around just long enough to look Dean up and down give him what may have been a wink.   
  
“We should get along well, then,” he says with a shy smile, before turning around and getting his things out of his bag.   
  
Dean doesn’t answer and just stand there, his brain unable to process anything besides how cheeky and gorgeous Castiel looks with flushed cheeks.   
  
He tries to shake himself up. Is he, really? Fine with anything? He’s been asking himself that question a lot lately, especially since the end of high school. Being with girls always came so naturally to Dean, but then… But then _dudes_ , dudes sometimes make him feel curious things that he wants to explore.   
  
And as he looks at Castiel making his bed, staring shamelessly at his perfect ass, at his broad shoulders and his adorable ruffled hair, Dean thinks _yes_. He’d definitely be fine doing _anything_ with that guy.   
  
*   
  
“Do you want kids, Dean?” Castiel asks as he lets Connor gently slides from his arms to the ground.   
  
The little boy plants a big smush on Castiel’s cheek, making the counsellor grin and blush, before ruffling the boy’s hair. The blue eyes follow Connor fondly as he trots towards Oliver.   
  
“I - I guess,” Dean stutters.   
  
He barely manages to stand on his wobbly legs, which happens every time he looks at Castiel. And it’s much, much worse whenever they’re around kids, because _of course_ Dean wants kids, he loves kids, he loves people who love kids and always wanted to be with someone who shared his passion for them. And for two weeks now, Dean’s been completely unable to think about anything else but how he suddenly knows _exactly_ what he wants, what future he wants, and he can’t imagine it better than with Castiel in it.   
  
Dean doesn’t have time to ask “what about you?” because Castiel has gone running after the kids, making pterodactyl sounds, and it’s the most adorable thing Dean has ever seen.   
  
Being around kids seems to make Castiel’s face light up like a freaking sunrise, except even more breathtaking, and it’s so contagious that Dean’s heart flutters and race like a butterfly. And it’s a real curse, because being around kids is literally their job, which means that Castiel always looks like a God right out of Dean’s paradise. And it’s painful, and it’s constant, and Dean looks like an idiot all the time because he can’t align two words when Castiel looks at him, and Dean has had crushes on people before but this... This is something else.   
  
*   
  
“I - I have a little brother, actually,” Dean says that night, because he’s doing the dishes and Cas is reading at the table, which means he can’t see his face and it makes it a lot easier to talk.   
  
“I’m sorry?”   
  
The plate slips from Dean’s wet hands into the tepid water.   
  
“The - the kid question from earlier? You asked if I wanted kids, and I - I kind of already have one. Name’s Sammy. I sort of raised him on my own since our parents weren’t… really there, y’know.”   
  
Dean hears the book close and lay on the table.   
  
“I’m sorry, it must have been difficult,” Castiel replies. He has such a gorgeous voice, low and calm and so reassuring. “How old is he?”   
  
“Twelve. Spending the summer at science camp, in Washington.” Dean smiles as he starts washing the plate again.   
  
“That explains all the White House postcards.”   
  
“Yeah.” Dean decides that the plate is clean enough and puts it on the rack. “So, d’you have any family?”   
  
His heart jumps when he hears the chair scrape the floor and Castiel getting up. A second later tanned arms are grabbing the plates from the mat and drying them with a towel. Cas puts the plate away and picks up another one before he speaks again.   
  
“No, not really. My parents died shortly after I was born. I was raised in group homes. I did make some friends, but the kids moved a lot, so I never got the feeling we were a family.”   
  
“I’m surprised after all that you still like being around kids,” Dean can’t help but say. “I mean, you look like you do.”   
  
Cas pushes himself on his toes and opens the top cupboard. It’s been a bit chilly today and he’s wearing a sweater, which lifts up just high enough to show a pale trail of hair and defined hip bones. Dean drops another dish and the water spurts on his pants.   
  
“I love them,” Cas says as he reaches out to take the clean plate out of Dean’s trembling hands. "Kids were the ones who raised me and took care of me all my life, and now... I get to give some of that back."  
  
He’s standing a little bit too close and Dean firmly avoid his eyes, hoping he won’t look at his crotch and think he just came in his pants. Because he didn’t. Despite how burning red his face is.   
  
“I hope to be a kindergarten teacher,” Cas adds, lips curving into a grin. "And maybe eventually foster some children of my own."  
  
Of course he does. _Of course_ he’s that perfect, of course he’s everything anyone could ever dream of, of course they share the same dreams and hopes. Dean takes advantage of Cas turning around and putting away a glass to speak again.   
  
“That’s cool, man. I wanna be an elementary teacher. First grade. Teach kids how to read and write, like I did with Sammy. We moved around a lot so school wasn't always easy for him. I want to make sure the kids I get have a good start in life, y'know?”   
  
Castiel pretends not to notice that Dean’s handing him unwashed plates and gives him another one of his dazzling smiles.   
  
“I think that’s amazing, Dean.”   
  
*   
  
“Alright, one last s'more for everyone,” Dean states. “And then straight to bed, no ghost stories keeping you guys up all night.”   
  
“So that means you and Cas won’t talk until dawn like last night, right?” Jeremy asks innocently. “Because _we_ wanted to sleep.”   
  
Dean crosses his legs, smiling down at the ground.   
  
“Yeah, sorry about that.”   
  
He’s not sorry at all, to say the truth. It’s hard to stop talking with Castiel once you’ve started. Cas is still incredibly gorgeous, and Dean still gets all blushy when he looks at him, but he found out that if he focuses on looking at the ceiling and listening to the crickets, he can very easily and naturally converse with Castiel.   
  
They have grown a lot closer lately, closer than Dean’s ever been with anyone except his brother. It feels good to be able to share things Dean never could share before, and have someone confide into him and trust him in the same way. It’s a camp thing, Dean heard, getting really close to people you’ll never see again in your life. But it's still amazing.   
  
“One last s'more Dean?” Cas pulls him out of his daydream and dangles a marshmallow sandwich in front of his eyes.   
  
“Nah, thanks, I’m full.”   
  
“Come on, I know it’s not _pie_ but you need to keep that stomach nourished.”   
  
Dean turns away, cheeks flushed. Cas knows he’s insecure about his tummy fat that never goes away, and he seems to really enjoy teasing him about it. Because he thinks it’s _cute_. At least, that’s what Cas said after asking “ _you_ , with a complex?” like Dean doesn’t have anything to be insecure about. And then when Dean mentioned his pudgy stomach, Cas simply murmured “I personally find it absolutely adorable.” Good thing the kids in the next tent yelled at them to shut up, because Dean was just about to roll over and rub said pudgy stomach all over his co-counsellor.   
  
Who is now almost throwing the s’more in his face.   
  
“My stomach is fine, thank you…” Dean protests, but Cas doesn’t listen, and slides his butt on the log to sit even closer.   
  
“Come on, Dean, open your mouth!”   
  
Dean turns away and gives a playful nudge with his elbow on Cas’ sides, only to find himself punished by a marshmallow sandwich smashed all over his face.   
  
“Hey!”   
  
He pushes a giggling Cas away and tries to wipe his mouth, only smearing the chocolate further on his cheeks.   
  
The kids are laughing and so is Castiel, with this whole face laugh that reduce his eyes to sparkling pearls lost in a sea of happy crinkles. It makes Dean want to wrap his arms around him and cover his stupid face in stupid kisses.   
  
Instead he grabs the marshmallow of the kid next to him and smashes it on Castiel’s face, rubbing with his palm to spread it as much as possible. He feels Cas’ warm breath and the wetness of his mouth before pulling back, his own cheeks getting heated under the sticky sweet.   
  
“You’re an ass,” Castiel says very seriously, and then he proceeds to clean himself up.   
  
He sucks his fingers in his mouth with wet, sloppy sounds, pulpy lips wrapping around them in the most obscene thing Dean has ever witnessed. That’s his cue to get up, and he spends much longer than he needs to at the river to make sure his ridiculous arousal is all gone before he tucks the kids into bed.   
  
*   
  
“You okay?” Dean whispers in the dark.   
  
He can feel Castiel tossing and turning beside him, their sleeping bags basically squeezed together from the tiny size of the tent.   
  
“Yeah, I’m just - I’m cold. I worry about the kids,” Cas replies, turning around one more time.   
  
Dean reaches out and places a hand on the shape next to him.   
  
“They got much better sleeping bags than we do, Cas. They’re fine. We only got those crappy ones because they keep all the good ones for the kids. Don’t worry.”   
  
Cas stops moving, relaxing under Dean’s hand.   
  
“Aren’t you cold?”   
  
“Nah, I never get cold,” Dean shrugs and he brings his hand back. “Don’t know why. Wish I could share the heat with you but...” he stops mid-sentence when he realizes what he's saying. _Share the heat_?   
  
“Would you mind if I… tried something?” Cas murmurs, and Dean turns his head to find him very close, his blue eyes glistening in the dark.   
  
“Uh, sure. I mean no, I mean - go ahead,” he stutters. _Smooth_ , Winchester.   
  
Castiel’s weight shifts but Dean can’t see what he’s doing, until he hears a zipper being slid down. His whole body tenses, and then a cold hand sneaks into his sleeping bag and unzips it too. What is Castiel doing? Dean doesn’t dare to move or even breathe. Cold air invades his warm cocoon, and then Castiel plays around a bit more, unzipping and rezipping the sleeping bags completely. It’s only when Dean feels Castiel’s body moving closer and the breeze warming up that he understands.   
  
“Did you… zip our sleeping bags together?”   
  
“It’s a survival trick,” Cas says, and Dean can feel him shivering barely an inch away. It doesn’t help that he himself isn’t wearing a t-shirt. “That way we can share the heat.”   
  
“Well, you can use as much of my warmth as you want,” Dean breathes out. He turns around, concealing his stupid boner between his thighs and hoping Cas won’t have the silly idea of grabbing his crotch.   
  
He does no such thing. He simply cuddles to Dean closer, pressing himself against his naked back. Dean doesn’t twitch when the cold limbs press against his bare skin, and he can already feel his companion warming up.   
  
“Thank you,” Cas murmurs, lips very close to his neck.   
  
He doesn’t make any more moves, not that Dean would mind exactly, but Cas really seems to want his heat and nothing else. And he’s already falling asleep, slow breaths against Dean’s skin and cold nose snuggling closer. Dean knows he won’t get any rest tonight. His heart is racing just from the close proximity of Castiel, and his brain full of stormy thoughts.   
  
Castiel might be the best friend Dean's ever had, but he’s still _impossible_ to read. And Dean tries to not let his own stupid crush impair his judgement, even when it feels like maybe Castiel like-likes him too.   
  
Cas is a weird, dorky dude with no notion of personal space, and yes, he’s gay, he’s not hiding it, although he hasn’t said much since that whole “yeah I like fucking and being fucked” thing when they met. And yes, he seems to like Dean, but he’s not exactly making clear moves, not even right now, despite his hands grabbing on Dean’s hips to keep him close. It's just who Castiel is, he’s the kind of guy who stands too close when you talk to him, who never breaks eye contact because apparently nothing makes him uncomfortable, and who looks like he’s in love with everything, even life itself. He could be head over heels in love with Dean or be completely aromantic, Dean doesn’t have a freaking clue.   
  
*   
  
“Are you going to tell him?” the little voice of Connor asks.   
  
The group is on its way back to the camp, Dean in the lead and Castiel walking behind with the slower kids. Connor may only be six years old, but he always seems too smart for his age.   
  
“What are you talking about?”   
  
"Cas. You should tell him you love him.”   
  
Dean snorts and quickly looks around. Castiel is still far behind, hand in hand with Oliver and apparently in a deep conversation.   
  
“I don’t… _love_ him.”   
  
“Yes you do,” Connor says very seriously. “I know, because you look at him the same way I look at Oliver.”   
  
Dean stops walking, completely caught off guard.   
  
“You - you like Oliver?”   
  
Connor nods, round cheeks turning red. He shuffles on his feet, and then starts walking again.   
  
“I love him. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”   
  
Dean smiles. Kids can be so damn cute.   
  
“But I want to be more than his friend,” Connor continues, putting his little hands in his pockets and looking at the horizon.   
  
“What does that mean?”   
  
Dean hopes he’s not going to have the “you’re not ready to have sex yet” conversation with his six years old campers. Do kids ever think about _that_? Can kids even make out the difference between friendship and romantic love? Apparently, they do.   
  
"I want to be his boyfriend,” Connor says in a lowered voice. “I want to hold his hands, and kiss his cheeks, and when we have sleepovers I want to hold him in my arms.”   
  
“Woah, _woah_ , kid, you’re a bit young for that, alright?” Dean chuckles awkwardly.   
  
He’s the one getting flushed now though. Because thinking about this just brings back the memories of last night. And how Dean woke up in the morning completely wrapped around Cas, their bodies interlaced and their faces so freaking close. How Cas’ arms felt around his naked chest, how his slow breaths tickled his shoulder. How his big, manly thighs fitted between his own. And how they woke up at the same time and looked at each other in silence, and neither of them pulled back, and Cas smiled and moved even closer, and they were almost about to kiss, and Cas couldn’t _not_ have felt Dean’s morning wood...   
  
But then the kids knocked on the tent, complaining that they were hungry, and Dean and Cas both jumped out of the sleeping bag and got dressed without a word. Dean hasn’t been able to look at his colleague since.   
  
“Camp is going to be over in a few weeks. I think we both have lost enough time, Dean,” Connor states as if they’re two business men discussing a huge money deal. “We should confess our feelings to the men we love.”   
  
Dean forces himself not to snort. That kid sounds so much more adult than he’ll ever be. And he should definitely get a cute kid love story with his best friend.   
  
“All right,” Dean says as the buildings of the camp start appearing down the road. “Deal. I’ll tell him if you tell him.”   
  
He shakes Connor’s tiny hand, and a second later they get jostled by the rest of the kids running toward the lake for refreshments.   
  
Castiel has just caught up to where they’re standing when Connor turns around and winks at Dean.   
  
“Don’t forget our deal, Dean!” he says before taking Oliver’s hand and running with him toward the forest.   
  
Castiel turns toward Dean and tilts his head.   
  
“What was that about?”   
  
“Don’t go too far into that forest guys!” Dean yells, ignoring Cas’ question as he watches Connor and Oliver disappear behind the trees. “Come on,” he adds, and he pulls on Castiel’s shirt.   
  
“What are we doing?”   
  
“Sshh!”   
  
They take a few steps in the woods, leaves cracking under their feet, until they find an opening through the branches that allows them to see the two little boys. They can’t hear what they’re saying but Connor’s taken both of Oliver’s hands in his and he’s looking at the ground, a big smile on his face.   
  
Connor says something, shrugs, and looks up. Oliver’s grinning. The second boy leans over and kisses Connor’s cheek, murmuring something in his ear, and then they both giggle before pressing their lips together. Oliver's glasses are crooked now but he doesn't care, wrapping his arms around Connor and hugging him for what seems to Dean like an hour. Neither him nor Cas dare make a move, and it feels like they’re witnessing something magical.   
  
Finally the boys break apart and scamper excitedly out of the woods, hand in hand. Dean realizes how emotional he is. It was beautiful to watch those little kids, those children who are already in love with each other before even knowing what love is, or even how their’s would be seen in the real world. Children who must have seen so little of boys loving boys, but who know despite all of that how they truly feel about each other. Pure, childish love, way above sex or physical appearance… just love.   
  
“Dean, are you crying?”   
  
Cas’ tone isn’t mocking, simply concerned, and Dean sniffles and turns around.   
  
“No! No, just, allergies, y’know.”   
  
He hurries back out of the woods, Castiel on his heel.   
  
When they find the children again everyone’s sitting around on the sunny grass, enjoying fruit popsicles as a reward for the long walk they took today.   
  
*   
  
“All right, good night guys, don’t stay up too late and _everyone_ in their own beds,” Dean declares, shooting a significant look at Connor, who’s sitting on Oliver’s bed and holding his hand. The two kids haven’t let go of each other all day, and several times Cas has caught Dean looking at them with humid eyes and a fond smile.   
  
“Don’t forget to tell him, Dean!” Connor sings just as he turns the lights.   
  
“Yeah, yeah!"   
  
“Tell who what?” Castiel asks as he follows Dean back to their cabin.   
  
“Nothing.”   
  
Cas doesn’t comment on Dean’s rude tone and simply rushes to the shower.   
  
A few hours, a dinner and a movie later they’re turning off their own light. Most camp workers go to the main building at night to party, but tonight Dean didn’t feel like it. Cas doesn’t really like going anyway, and being responsible for the younger kids means waking up much earlier than the rest of the staff.   
  
Dean takes a while to fall asleep, tossing and turning in his bed. He _has_ to tell Cas, Connor’s right - the damn six year old is right. Because in the very unlikely case that Castiel likes him back… Then Dean wants every minute, every second with him he can get. He’s the best friend Dean ever had, and hopefully if it doesn’t turn out the way he wants, they’ll get over it. And maybe he should have while they were eating, or watching that stupid boat movie, or when Cas stretched his legs over Dean's lap. But he just couldn't.  
  
Dean closes his eyes, promising himself he's going to do it tomorrow. He’s about to doze off when Castiel’s voice rises from the bottom bunk.   
  
“Dean?”   
  
“Mmh.”   
  
“What sort of deal did you make with Connor?”   
  
Dean doesn’t open his eyes and only brings the sheets up to his chin. He'll tell him, he _will_ , just... not tonight.   
  
“Not important, Cas.”   
  
“He said that you needed to tell something to someone. Did it have something to do with him and Oliver?”   
  
Dean takes a deep breath.   
  
“Do we have to do this?”   
  
“We’re best friends,” Castiel argues. “I thought we told each other everything. If you have a crush on someone…”   
  
Obviously Cas isn’t going to let this go, and he’s perceptive enough to know that something is up. Dean turns over.   
  
“Fine.” His heart starts racing, something big blocking up his throat. “Deal _was_ , Connor would tell Oliver he loved him if I… y’know. Did the same thing.”   
  
There’s a short silence.   
  
“I’m pretty sure that’s against the law.”   
  
“Ew! Cas! My end of the deal wasn’t with Oliver!” Dean exclaims. “What the Hell?”   
  
“You’re the one being all vague and mysterious.” Cas grunts stubbornly. “So… who were you supposed to tell?”   
  
Dean lets out another annoyed sigh and doesn’t answer. He hears a rustle and Cas tossing around. He sounds really mad now.   
  
“Fine. Good night, Dean.”   
  
“It’s just this guy, alright?” Dean blurts out. “Who is… _not_ a kid. A guy. A grown up. Who I lo- _like_. I have to tell him that I lov- that I like him.”   
  
Castiel turns in his sheets again, slowly this time.   
  
“You like him, or… or do you love him?”   
  
“I don’t know!”   
  
Dean pushes away the sheets. Damn it, is it hot in here? Why are his cheeks so warm?   
  
“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Dean mutters. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t feel the same way about me.”   
  
That’s it, Dean thinks. Cas isn’t going to answer, because he’s going to be scared Dean’s talking about him and he won’t want to ruin their friendship. And then they’ll go to sleep and never talk about this again, never talk about the night in the tent or anything else, and the summer will end and they’ll be out of each other’s lives forever. End of.   
  
“I don’t see how anyone could not like you. You're very likeable.”   
  
Dean closes his eyes and hugs the pillow tighter. His stomach hurts.   
  
“I don’t mean… just _like_ , Cas. I mean…”   
  
“You mean what?”   
  
“More.”   
  
“More than what?”   
  
“More than like!”   
  
Now Dean’s getting really annoyed. He can't just say the word _love_ , he might feel things but it's still new and unsettling and definitely very different from the how he felt dating Lisa or Cassie in high school. And maybe he wasn't always faithful back then, maybe he wasn't the best guy but at least he never used the word _love_. And yes now it's different, but why can't Cas just get it without having to explain everything?   
  
“So, like, love?”   
  
“Like _I wanna marry you and have your babies and grow old together and spend the rest of my life with you_ , Cas! There, I said it. Now you know, our friendship is over, I’m completely obsessed with you, whatever.”   
  
Dean realizes that he’s panting, curled up in his sheets, and he buries his face in the pillow in the hope it will magically make him disappear from the surface of the Earth. Why can’t he control his freaking mouth? Now Cas is never going to talk to him again, and Dean will be the weird guy on camp obsessed with his roommate and who dreams about babies and marriage with a guy he’s met four weeks ago, and everyone will laugh at him until the end of freaking time.   
  
The bed squeaks. Someone is climbing the ladder up to Dean’s bed, and he knows who it is but he just can’t look. He clutches his arms around his pillow, heart hammering against his ribcage.   
  
A warmth crawls over Dean and a heavy weight slides next to him. Castiel squirms in the small space between Dean and the wooden fence, smelling all soapy and sweet, and Dean opens one eye to find the blue irises smiling at him.   
  
“I love you too, Dean.”   
  
Dean turns his face back into the pillow, pretty sure that there’s smoke coming out of his ears.   
  
“I didn’t say _love_ ,” he grumbles.   
  
But I meant it, he thinks.   
  
“Well, I’m saying it,” Cas quietly says. He runs a delicate hand up Dean's back, shivers following the path of his fingers. “I love you, Dean Winchester. You’re my best friend, and I love you, and I know we’ve just met but… I can’t imagine my life without you.”   
  
Dean’s chest lets out a loud chuckle of relief. He turns towards Cas again, unable to do anything but grin like a freaking five years old, flushed face still half hidden by the bump of the pillow.   
  
"Well, aren't you going to kiss me?"   
  
Dean huffs and buries his face back into the pillow, feeling like he's just going to burst into spontaneous combustion. He's still trying to process _this_ , this finally happening... and suddenly those lips he's been staring at all summer, so plump and soft and pink, looking like the softest cushion made of cotton candy, suddenly they're very close, and Dean's not sure if he'll be able to handle them on his own.   
  
"I kinda need a minute to get ready." Dean's voice is stifled by the pillow, and he feels Castiel's laugh resonate against his own chest. He finally turns to him again, full body this time, making place for Castiel to slide more easily between his open arms.   
  
Cas’ kiss is better than everything Dean could have imagined, tasting like cotton candy and feeling like fluffy clouds of warmth and happiness. It's later, when Dean can finally breathe, when he's all dizzy from Cas' kiss and his heavy weight straddling him, when he feels like his heart is about to explode from the happiness and the feeling of how everything is so _right_ , that he's finally able to murmur the words too. It's stifled into Castiel's shoulders, mumbled under his breath, but it's still there, and it makes Cas laugh the way that sets a thousand fireflies in Dean's stomach and a billion stars in his eyes.   
  
*   
  
“Here we are,” Cas murmurs in Dean’s ears as he opens the door.   
  
Dean glances inside the luxurious hotel room, only to find what must be the most expensive yet ridiculous bed he’s ever seen. Despite his brain being completely focused on finally getting to strip his new husband out of his expensive tuxedo, Dean can’t help but stop and smile at the view.   
  
“Bunk beds, Cas? For our wedding night, really?”   
  
“Yes,” Cas growls, his teeth already digging in the flesh of Dean’s neck and his hands sneaking down his pants. “I thought we could go back to where it all started…”   
  
Dean laughs, unbuttoning Cas’ shirt and giving him a long awaited kiss.   
  
“So,” Cas asks when they’re finally out of their clothes, and he wraps his arms around Dean's neck. “Top or bottom, Dean Winchester?”   
  
“Whatever you want, babe,” Dean whispers in his neck. “ _Anything_ is fine with me.”

 


End file.
